Guy Who Calls Other Guys ‘Guy’ Not Good Guy

By David Colton

TENANTS OF THE TREES — Knocking back the second of two White Claws once stacked in his left hand, local associate analyst Mikey “Coors Heavy” Furlough took a step back and let the sounds of the cacophonous bar surrounding him take over.

By his side were the boys, each sporting their signature “going out” vest. But then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something.

He saw a young man wearing a light blue button-down and khakis. For Mikey, that only meant one thing — it was either Matt, Jack, Nick, Matt or Trevor.

“What’s up, guy?” shouted Mikey, desperately aching to assert himself over someone in any and every setting because his father will never love him.

Per usual, every straight man in the room’s head eagerly turned for the familiar call, but Coors Heavy was already locked in a warm embrace with Corey. Or was it Tristan? Maybe Jason?

“Oh, when Heavy said what’s good to that youth I knew he had finally found his apprentice,” said Chris Orwell, who also peaked in high school.

As soon as the duo broke their tender embrace, it became clear that Orwell was right, as the poor boy now had a massive, visibly heavy gold chain adorning his neck embossed with blue mountains.

Then, the ceremonial proceedings began.

Mikey pushed and shoved his way to the bar, hurling insults at every inferior man and encouraging his new pupil to do the same. When he finally got to the bar, Coors Heavy and the kid had left a wake of spilled long island iced teas and vodka cranberries.

The sweet, horrible smell hung in the air and just for a moment the room seemed to fall completely silent. The world vanished around the guy and his apprentice at the bar, a moment of pure and serene intimacy between two toxic straight man.  

Then, the bartender shattered that silence, and a new era was begun.

“Okay, I’ve got a Coors and a Coors Light”

Joke Said Again, Louder

By David Colton

THE WORKPLACE — After several seconds of deafening silence, Dennis Herblemann realized the circle of people standing in the break room must not have heard him.

So, he tried again to weave the same exact joke — verbatim — back into the conversation in a natural way.

“… It’d be called a can’t opener!” said Herblemann, a 34-year-old who routinely does explicit work-conversation prep in the car his way to work.

In a second crushing blow, Dennis once again received stone-cold silence from his colleagues, who were presumably still brooding over last night, where everyone had to stay 20 extra minutes so Susan could finish making copies.

“Honestly, all this says to me is ‘Dennis, nobody likes you or wants to spend any time with you,’” said Herblemann, who has worked at this company for 13 years.

“Back to the drawing board!”

Meanwhile, Trey — the new guy in accounting — came out guns blazing in his first week back since flying to Vegas for a poker tournament.

“So then, me and my buddy Jack, both absolutely plastered, won $60k in one hand, from the toilet. Talk about a fuckin’ royal flush, am I right?” said Trey, who might be under 30 according to workplace rumors.

Of course, workplace colleagues were incredibly receptive to Trey’s Vegas routine and at one point appeared to actively tighten the break room circle in an effort to squeeze him out.

Then, Trey did the unthinkable.

“Yo, guys, here’s another classic: What do you call a can opener that doesn’t work?”